


A Series of Gassy Events

by orphan_account



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Belly Kink, Burping, Diarrhea, Esmé is one fetishy old lady, F/M, Farting, Feeding Kink, Food Kink, Gassy Fernald, Gassy Guy, Light Dom/sub, Scat, Weight Gain, disgusting, malegas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-25 13:56:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17726504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Esmé lets go of a long kept secret when Fernald goes on a lonesome binge, and things get gross.





	1. Chapter 1

Fernald reclined uncomfortably on a chair, alone on the submarine instead of with Olaf. And it was because of _her._ Esmé Squalor had convinced Olaf to boot Fernald from the table -- because he wasn’t really family. 

_Glug, glug, glug._ He downed another entire parsley soda, letting out a nonchalant burp at its disposal. His belly gurgled grimly, disagreeing with his soda binge. But in his depression, Fernald knew that this was only the beginning. Previously, he had obtained some fish, and cooked it for himself. He silently vowed to not share it with anyone, even Olaf. With disgusting speed, Fernald began wolfing down the cooked fish. 

_Gooooouuuurgh! Uorg, uuuuurgle._ His stomach continued making unpleasant and vulgar sounds in distress. “Heh,” he awkwardly and breathily chuckled. A few more bites later, and the fish had been completely devoured. “ _UUUUURP!_ So freakin’ good…” He mumbled hedonistically to himself. Footsteps were suddenly audibly getting closer, and Fernald shot to his feet. With the speed that he did, his belly sloshed intensely, and he let out a wet, involuntary belch.

It was the last person he wanted to see. Esmé, completely adorned in her ridiculous but somehow stunning squid-themed outfit. Fernald blushed furiously knowing someone as humble and grotesque as himself was in her presence. He loved Olaf, but knew that Esmé was almost an entirely different level of unattainable. “ _Ouurp…_ Oh, Esmé, it’s you.” Fernald very anxiously murmured, uneasy sickness spreading through him, and not just from his overeating.

“H-Hooky…” Esmé said with a seemingly captivated stare, and uncharacteristic tone. “Did you go and fill yourself up back here?” Esmé started slowly approaching Fernald, and he cowardly backed away. “Oh, I don’t want to hurt you, Hooky…” Esmé promised seductively. Fernald felt confused -- and aroused -- and confused that he was aroused. His dick began to slide along his trousers as it grew. 

“What _do_ you want to do, Esmé?” Fernald whimpered, unfortunately backing into a wall. He was cornered and terrified. But also gassy and sexually frustrated.

“There’s something I love, and I hate that I love it because… well… it’s so not in.” Esmé whispered strangely, her face all the way in Fernald’s. It was intimidating but also served to make him even more aroused. “And I could never ask Count Olaf to partake in it, because Satan knows he is better than that. But you, Hooky? _You’re perfect._ ” Esmé cryptically informed him, rubbing intimately along his bulging, digesting belly. She groped and squeezed his plush belly fat as he squirmed and whined.

Unintentionally, he released a fairly loud and particularly smelly burp; Esmé almost fainted in her own erotic delight. And the pieces came together to an extremely embarrassed and overwhelmed Fernald. “Y-You think this is attractive?” He asked, amazed that someone as narcissistic and materialistic as Esmé would have such a degrading fetish. But before she could reply, Fernald did the most embarrassing thing he had ever done.

 _TBBBBHHHHHHHHTBBBT!_ His ass loudly, wetly sputtered. He could feel the inside of his boxers lightly dampen, as if something uninvited had escaped with the enormous release. “Ohhhh…” Fernald moaned, his stomach and guts churning apprehensively. A storm was brewing in his body and Esmé had every intention of savoring it. Her face wore the most flattered reaction, the most satiated pleasure Fernald had seen.

"Oh is right, Hooky. Oh is right."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scat ensues.

Esmé put a hand on Fernald’s ass, caressing it and smiling. “Do you need some more soda, dear?” She said in a deceptively sweet voice. Fernald’s heart beat quickly and his face was sweaty with trepidation.

“Yes, please,” He mumbled dreamily, unable to fully process what was going on. _Ouuuuuuuuurgh! Gorgle..._ His stomach winced, and he anticipated that worse gas would come.

Esmé grabbed a parsley soda and began forcing Fernald to chug it. His face went red and redder, hot and hotter. With the soda completely gone, he grunted and belched extremely loudly and provocatively into her face. “ _UUUUUUOOOOOOOORP!_ Golly, E-Esmé, I’m sorry…” Fernald stammered, his stomach continuing to make fiendish and obscene sounds of distress.

“Don’t be…” She cooed, her body aflame with sexual excitement. She grabbed around Fernald’s waist and turned him around, listening pleasantly to the grumbling of his colon. Fernald groaned in intestinal pain, trying to fend off what felt like an enormous fart. 

His hairy, sweaty ass began to tickle with the sensation of gas approaching release. And suddenly, he exploded into a series of loud and embarrassing farts. Esmé took deep whiffs of the immensely raunchy scent. She pulled Fernald closer to her face, laying herself down so that he was sitting on her. 

Continuous farts violently blasted into Esmé’s face. Fernald rubbed his aching stomach, praying that it would finally end. However, a low growl inside of him suggested otherwise.

“ _OOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURP! Ourp! Uuuurp…_ ” Fernald belched incessantly, blushing and covering his mouth. But rotten smells had already completely filled the room.

“Keep going,” Esmé said between his ass cheeks, absorbing the stench of his wet farts. She reached down into her underwear, plunged a nailed finger into her vagina, and needily began massaging her clit. Fernald wanted nothing more than to stop, but his digestive system denied him that ability. And so did Esmé.

 _PBBBBBBBBBTGHHHHT!_ An extra juicy emission splattered into his shorts, adding a hint of sewage smell. “ _Ouurp!_ I’m so _*URP*_ sorry, Esmé,” Fernald needlessly cried. 

“Hooky…” She moaned in such pleasure that Fernald believed his behind must’ve smelled like ambrosia. The scent did waft up to his own nose eventually, but it smelled like the worst case of gas known to man instead.

“Uhhh… Oooooh…” Fernald winced nervously at a sharp stomach pain. Loud farts exploded from his butt, sounding oddly… liquidy. Tempted by this, Esmé snatched his clothes covering his ass down quickly, licking his ass and ass hairs decorated with his sloppy shit. “ _OUUUUURP!_ ” He burped forcefully, right when a load of diarrhea slipped from his ass. It poured onto Esmé’s face and she opened her mouth immediately, drinking into it like a baby nurturing itself on its mother's tit. Esmé swallowed and slurped from the bubbling brown mass, and Fernald felt humiliated and disgusting as one last brassy fart erupted from his asshole.


	3. Chapter 3

Esmé had orgasmed twice already, and she felt her primal needs had been met. “Thanks, Hooky. I really needed that.” Her tongue tasted of bitter, salty scat, and she grimaced. It was time to clean up. But she wished so badly to continue…

Fernald, on the other hand, was nauseous about what had just happened. Esmé certainly stunk like his shit, her hair equipped with drying droplets. “ _OUUUURP!_ Oh God, when will it stop?!” Fernald begged for it to end, for God to have mercy on his insides. Hurriedly, Esmé took a handkerchief and cleaned the scat on the ground to the best of her ability. She refused to let her countie dearest know of what happened. 

Contrary to what one might expect, there are showers on submarines. Submarine showers use the engine to power evaporators, which are noisy contraptions for producing fresh water. Although, normally, these made the submarine’s engine heat to very high temperatures, _The Carmelita’s_ engine was advanced and abnormal. And the size of the shower was rather luxurious, meaning both Esmé and Fernald could fit inside.

There they were, in the sizeable shower together, humbled by a lack of clothing. Esmé felt her growing infatuation with Fernald increase as he let out extremely loud, bubbly farts that echoed throughout the shower chamber. He was tempted to turn away from her, but all that would do is put his hairy ass-cheeks against her vagina, and he had a growing suspicion that’s just what she wanted. 

Running a soapy hand through her hair, Esmé made sure to be glowingly clean of all shit. Not for long. Putting a hook on his stomach, Fernald said with a frown, “Esmé… why?” It was all he could ask in his embarrassment. The memory of Esmé’s tongue prodding his puckered asshole as it shot out a mountain of watery scat still haunted him. 

“Dear, it’s extremely complicated. As I said, I’m aware it’s not in,” Esmé sighed, scrubbing her neck. 

“Well, it was actually in. Inside of me. Before you like, ate it.” Fernald unnecessarily specified, humiliating Esmé. She had a hurt expression about her, like a cat waddling away from the person who stepped on its tail.

“Hooky. You intrigue me. You fascinate me. I’m absolutely fixated on how disgusting you are.” Esmé openly admitted, accepting Fernald’s new opinions of her.

“Wow… thanks, I guess.” Fernald mumbled, bathing in the flow of water. _GOOOOOUUUUUUURG! Ouuuurgle! Goouuuuuoooouurgle…_ Several gurgling stomach sounds indicated that Fernald had not released everything just yet.

Esmé eagerly rubbed his back, trying to coax him into feeding her once again. She’d just tasted some and yet she was desperate for more. One last boisterous fart marked the beginning of a diarrhea bout. Hungrily, Esmé turned Fernald around, to which he groaned. The stomach pain made it too difficult to fight back. 

His ass cheeks, even after the most thorough of washes, still reeked of the nasty aroma they did earlier. This pleased Esmé, whose tongue was already dipping into his anus. Her tits hung out in her slouched position.

A pound of gooey brown slop started to shoot out onto Esmé’s face and into her mouth. From his position, Fernald could not see her, and the water made it difficult to hear her. But he swore he heard guttural swallowing noises as though she was choking down his liquid shit. 

More shit escaped Fernald’s pink chasm, spraying out onto Esmé’s hair once again. She licked and licked away at Fernald’s delicious ass, despite it tasting of spoiled foods. Fernald felt his dick unwillingly rise to all this. An urge came about him, even his woozy, ashamed, overwhelmed state. He considered fighting the urge, but there was no point in resisting. The damage had been done.

Rubbing his member against the shower wall, Fernald moaned, “Now that’s the stuff.” Right as he did, his ass spat out a mound of extreme sludge. Esmé discovered undigested food chunks that served as a tasty seasoning. She was happy that Fernald finally submitted to it, for both their pleasure’s sake. 

“ _OUUUUUUUUUURP!_ Keep going,” He pleaded with an ungodly belch. In her own paradise, Esmé acted as Fernald’s toilet paper, drinking in his feces. One of her hands travelled to her crotch, which was wetter than it had ever been in her whole life. And Esmé pondered for a moment what life could be with “Hooky” rather than Count Olaf. 

_PBBBBBBRBBBBRRRRT!_ Then came the longest, loudest, tastiest fart. It tickled Fernald’s butthole to release. When it had erupted, it shook his ass cheeks. “WHOOO… That is a bad one!” Fernald said in pity of Esmé, although, he was starting to take some pride in his ability. He gently pushed her deeper in with his hook, rubbing her face around in his shit cavity.

A string of bubbly farts later, and he had reached an orgasm, reaching the pinnacle of sexual pleasure. One thing entered his mind. _Stop._ “O-Okay, Esmé, normal _*URP*_ shower time.” He nudged her lapping mouth away from his backside.

She whined, despite having orgasmed more than enough times. However, she knew that conditioning him would be a really slow process, so she couldn’t be his toilet quite yet. Entranced, Esmé stood back up and kissed his cheek, the shower having washed away her face that was exposed to the stream of water. “You’re so sexy,” she complimented him, stroking his shoulders.

For the first time in his life, Fernald felt like a lot of things. Not just another henchperson. Attractive. Good enough that Esmé Squalor was eating from his ass. “You’re sexy too,” Fernald reciprocated, cleaning up for real this time, washing the shit and cum away.

**Author's Note:**

> I may continue this, but I have to think there's someone out there with my fetish fixated on these characters. I can only pray.


End file.
